Olympic Flame

Scene: Olympic Flame was an East Village staple even before there was an East Village. Twenty-five years in, and it is still one of the only Greek games in town. Lunchtime finds a mix of hard-hatted fellas having a beer and a burger and busi­ness suits enjoying a Greek salad. It’s a small place with some faux grapevines, wine bottles lined up behind the cash register (where you step up to pay) and vinyl table­cloths. Nothing fancy — sort of hole-in-the-wall-ish, but in a clean, pleasant way.

Food: Forget the scene. It’s the food that’s kept the place going. Though there’s a pretty good selection of burgers, grilled cheese, tenderloins and the like, I’m not sure why anyone would pass up the delicious Greek offerings. For $8.75 apiece (plus an extra buck for substituting soup for fries), my friend and I each got a sandwich platter, which came with a small Greek salad and a cup of soup.

I think our waitress referred to the soup as “Mama’s” or “Grandma’s” chicken soup, but either way, it’s really avgole­mono, a classic Greek dish made with broth, eggs, orzo and lots of lemon. It is light and sparkly and wonderful.

My pal ordered the falafel sandwich, which is really more Middle Eastern than Greek, but suits the cuisine well. Ground chickpeas are spiced and made into little fried balls of heaven. Olym­pic Flame serves them in pita with tomato, cucum­b­ers and feta. So good, too.

On the clock: Olympic Flame seems to be pretty much a two-person show, at least on weekdays. So if you’re in a big, fat hurry, you might think again. Greece native and owner Angelo Ligdis cooks, and when we were there about 12:45 on a Tuesday, there was only one waitress, but plenty of customers.

Bottom line: A homey little spot with really tasty sand­wiches. I haven’t been to dinner there in years, but I remember it being good.

Bonus: While the salad’s pathetic iceberg lettuce and wan tomatoes were underwhelming, I used the lackluster veggies as a vehicle for getting the delicious salad dressing and a truly outstanding feta cheese — creamy, tangy and perfectly salted — to my mouth. Ask for extra.